The Future of the Past #1: A series on the earliest sci-fi

Aliens invade, unfathomable technology, mass casualties, enslavement. Human hybridization follows to help the aliens acclimate to our world. We cast fearless explorers into space to seek humanity’s salvation … and so goes a sliver of the “science fiction” genre.

Who gave us the blueprints for this infinity box we now store so much in?

The Founders, the Mothers and Fathers of Science Fiction, these titles evoke names like Jules Verne, Mary Shelley, and H.G. Wells, who worked between the early 1800s to the mid-1900s. Does this mean sci-fi was born a hundred years ago? Two hundred?

Not even close.

Put on your extra-capacity time machine pants, because we’re going back almost two thousand years.

Lucian, this dude. Maybe. This picture is from a conceptual engraving done in the 17th century.

In the second century AD—before flame throwers and toilet paper—Lucian of Samosata imagined space travel, alien races, and genetic hybridization, to name a few.

In the first installment of my Future of the Past series, I’ll look at A True Story (also translated A True History) written by Lucian of Samosata, a Greek-speaking author born in modern day Turkey.

A True Story is arguably the first work of science fiction. I say “arguably” because people love to start shit. A major point of contention is whether satire can create a genre since satires are by design commenting on an existing style. I say they can. Accidents produce as surely as purpose. 

A True Story targets classical Greek myths, exaggerating tales of heroes to a point where they stretch so far beyond their original shapes as to become something else entirely: science fiction.

The title itself plays with us, as the story is the opposite of true, though Lucian is honest about his lies:

“I see no reason for resigning my right to that inventive freedom which others enjoy; and, as I have no truth to put on record, having lived a very humdrum life, I fall back on falsehood--but falsehood of a more consistent variety; for I now make the only true statement you are to expect--that I am a liar.”

His lies have gotten more mileage than most people's truths.

Space Travel

The story sets sail with Lucian (yes, he is the protagonist of his own tale) traveling by ship. He and his crew pass the Pillars of Hercules to seek out what lies beyond the ocean’s edge. A storm hits. They're blown off course—way, way off. Straight up. In their wooden rocket ship.

After seven days and nights, Lucian and his pioneering crew land on the moon.

Sorry, George.

Alien Races and Celestial Warfare

A war rages around them, fought between the Moon people and the Sun people over colonization and territorial disputes of the North Star. Territorial disputes, the forever problem.

Genetic Hybrids and Future Materials

Wild hybrids flourish among the aliens—ant dragons, for example—and their arsenals include weaponized vegetables. I sympathize. As a kid, I thought being forced to eat canned spinach was a war crime.

The otherness of the moon does not end there. The men give birth. The rich flaunt “soft glass” fabric, an early echo of plastic. Maybe that’s where 80s future-think designers got their inspiration for all those transparent vinyl jackets. 

One artist's terrible rendition of the ant dragon.

A Heavy Injection of Fantasy

 The war ends, but Lucian’s journey continues. Upon returning to Earth, a whale swallows his crew. Having bumbled into someone else’s house, they battle fish people with Aquaman-esque assistance from dolphins, emerging victorious. Even poking fun at myths, Lucian can’t help make himself a victor.

They island hop across an ocean of milk, running into several “liars” of classical fiction like Homer (author of the Odyssey, not the donut-muncher). Lucian chops the story off here, promising more adventures in future installments. But, as far as we know, none ever came. A liar to the last, Lucian was; though he said he would be, so does that mean he was telling the truth all along?

....

A True Story overruns with puns and innuendo lost on modern audiences. Further obscuring the humor, Lucian throws most of his satirical jabs at works that no longer exist. He must have been a riot in his day.

Lucian dreamed up enough ingredients for even the most epic space operas, still fresh after two thousand years. Yum.

Nathaniel Henderson is an author currently working on a cyberpunk-injected book series. For updates and exclusive content, sign up for his newsletter.